


Spider-Bitch

by crookedneighbour



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Body Horror, Breeding, Daddy Kink, Dead Dove: Do Not Eat, Drugged Sex, Emotional Manipulation, Feeding Kink, Frottage, Intercrural Sex, M/M, Manipulative Quentin Beck, Mind Games, Mindfuck, Not Beta Read, Oviposition, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Rape/Non-con Elements, Tentacle Monsters, Unreliable Narrator, implied vore
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-11
Updated: 2020-01-11
Packaged: 2021-02-27 06:55:50
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,534
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22202959
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/crookedneighbour/pseuds/crookedneighbour
Summary: Peter is captured by Quentin. Quentin claims to have been using Peter’s blood to experiment on himself. Now he’s a spider monster and is going to lay eggs in Peter.
Relationships: Quentin Beck/Peter Parker
Comments: 21
Kudos: 229





	Spider-Bitch

**Author's Note:**

> Bruh I really just got horny and dysphoric and pounded this one out. Maybe not super high brow, but it'll get the job done. ;)
> 
> This a new one for me. I EDITED. Big thanks to Jani_Tomb for beta-ing and catching my typos etc.
> 
> THIS HAS AN ILLUSTRATION  
> https://twitter.com/peeperparker/status/1261811206450544643?s=20

Peter came to consciousness slowly. There was something hard beneath his stomach and he was distinctly draped over and bound to it. His wrists and ankles hurt, and however he was arranged, it had the effect that his hips were arched back and high. He was surrounded by darkness except for a light green fog that suggested where a hypothetical ground lay. He was most certainly compromised.

What had happened last? He’d gone to find Fury and instead found Quentin, if that was even his real name. He’d first landed hard on his back, then as he staggered away from Quentin, there’d been the impact of the train.

Arguably, he was with Quentin or somewhere Quentin controlled now.

“Mr. Beck?” Peter called out, tentative at first. “Beck? I’m sure we can figure something out...”

There was nothing to negotiate, but Quentin clearly thought of him as a naïve child. Maybe he could leverage that against him.

“Oh, you’re awake,” came Quentin’s voice from uncannily close behind him. He should have been able to sense him- hear Quentin breathing. Anything. His senses were broken though, heart spread too thin by the grief Tony left behind.

Peter gasped as a hand trailed up each of his thighs, intermittent squeezes accenting the journey across his increasingly sensitive flesh.

“I couldn’t say how long you’ve been out. I’m afraid I lost track of time. I’ve been enjoying the view,” Quentin explained with a breathy laugh. Peter squirmed as Quentin idly kneaded the flesh just below the cusp of his ass.

This was how it was going to be? Was Mr. Beck like that? Mr. Stark had said that kind of thing was a threat before, but Peter never really expected it to happen. No matter how hard he thrashed, he couldn’t turn to face Quentin. Maybe it was avoidable still.

“I’ve been experimenting on you a bit, Pete,” Quentin continued. “You were stronger than me. I don’t like to admit it, but I hated you a little for that.”

There was something else afoot. A brief snip and tear sound, and Peter suddenly felt the cool touch of open air against his thigh. Quentin’s hands were occupied with something other than groping him. Peter chewed at his own lip nervously.

“I’ve changed since you’ve seen me last,” Quentin hummed. Damp fabric passed over the bare spot across his thigh and his skin tingled lightly.

“One of the better spots for an intramuscular injection,” Quentin noted. It hurt. Something was deep in his leg, and there was a strange sensation of pressure building beneath his skin.

“Spider venom. It won’t hurt you, but you’ll undergo some of the milder side effects.”

Quentin gave Peter a light tap across his bottom for emphasis. At least Quentin wanted him alive. He could work with alive. If he could get his coordinates to Ned or Fury somehow...

“I’ll show you, Pete."

Quentin snapped and a reflective pool bordered by green fog opened in front of Peter. He was bent over and shackled in his uniform from Fury, as he suspected. Quentin stood behind him, but things were very different.

Quentin didn’t have so many eyes the last time Peter checked, nor did he have eight chitinous legs growing from his back, covered in dark fine hairs. Nor had his teeth been so terribly sharp, with curved mandibles leading to his mouth. He was still dressed in his armor, but his cape had been detached to accommodate his new anatomy. One of Quentin‘s legs had pierced his thigh where he had initially felt the stinging puncture. Quentin’s smile, still recognizable, made the picture all the worse. The aloof charm that Peter has fallen for had been distorted into a look of salacious hunger.

“Oh my god, don’t eat me,” Peter blurted out. 

“Oh, Peter. You certainly look delicious, but that wasn’t the type of devouring I had in mind. Not yet at least.”

Quentin’s voice dripped with lust, his tongue swiping across his lips slowly. There was a time when the thought of sexual attention from him would have sent Peter’s heart racing. Not here though- not like this. Peter had fallen for something that wasn't real, for the Quentin that cared for him and given him hope, not for the rather literal and metaphorical monster that stood slavering behind him.

Yet, as his stomach turned in panic, Peter felt something else in his body changing as well.

“Beck, what did you do to me?” he asked, trying again to break the restraints.

“Oh sweetheart, nothing you haven’t been aching for. I know you’ve wanted my cock inside you since Venice,” Quentin teased. His legs twitched slightly as he stepped closer to Peter, and Quentin's various eyes flicked over Peter, studying him. Separate of whether or not he wanted to, Quentin definitely looked like he could eat Peter alive. Or fuck him to death. 

"But I'm a bit of a changed man, now... Turns out whatever that radiation did has me itching for you," Quentin offered, removing his stinger-like leg from Peter's thigh. "I'm done playing Tony Stark 2.0 for you Peter. I can't resist any more. I'm gonna pump that cute body of yours full of eggs." 

Eggs? Was this real? If Quentin could manufacture something as complex as the Elementals, looking like a giant spider monster wasn't far off. Quentin was likely going to rape him separate of whatever the truth of his body was. As the venom made his way through his blood stream, the heat in his stomach transitioned into a proper erection and tears welled up in his eyes. He looked pathetic. There was no way he could resist Quentin like this, monster or not.

"Please, Beck. Please don't. I'll do anything else you want," Peter begged.

Quentin's armor dissolved from his body, revealing a mix of chitin and skin. Between his legs two small pointed appendages were centered around a significantly longer and thicker shaft-like appendage. Quentin ran his hand up and down its length in anticipation.

"This is what I want, Peter. I've been aching to breed my little spider-bitch," Quentin murmured. His legs extended and made quick work of the remains of Peter's dark uniform. Whatever Quentin was doing, Peter could feel the scrape of claws against his skin, and the trickle of blood down his legs. Horrified as he was though, the ache between his legs grew stronger.

"Don't be shy. It's time to make me a daddy."

Quentin was sick. Quentin was absolutely deranged, and sick. Then why did it turn Peter on so much, to hear him talk like that? He’d fantasized about stuff like that idly a few times, imagining Quentin or Tony’s fuzzy arms wrapped around his waist, but this felt electric and immediate in a way no fantasy could.

For better or for worse, Quentin started with his fingers. Peter was spread helplessly before him already, and there was nothing he could do to fight it. Quentin was already warm and slick somehow, maybe with lube, maybe because of some awful mutation, but it made Peter's hips arch either way.

"Please," Peter whimpered, unsure what he was asking for.

"I know you want this. Look at how hard you are," Quentin retorted, the hint of a snarl in his voice.

Peter really did look delicious. He was spread and bound over the cement Quentin had cast, his perky ass lubed up and ready for Quentin's pleasure. The venom had worked like a charm and gotten Peter hard as a rock without any of the more damaging side effects, and the hologram was, of course, fantastic.

Peter had eaten it up right away, used to the world of Avengers and gods on earth, even when he knew the Elementals were fake. What a gullible sweet thing he was.

On the table behind him, Quentin had the ovipositor toy he'd commissioned ready, and several rounded gelatin eggs sitting in warm water, ready for breeding his little spider into submission.

"You're gonna be perfect, Peter. You're gonna be so warm and tight. I can't wait to see your stomach bulge," Quentin hummed, sliding two fingers slowly into Peter. He worked his way deeper slowly, savoring the tight grip of Peter's ass around him.

"What?" Peter exclaimed.

"I'm gonna fill you till your stomach stretches, then keep you good and stuffed till they're ready," Quentin explained. His cock jolted at that despite his pre-existing state of arousal, and Quentin pushed his fingers deeper still. He was almost to his knuckles.

The image of Peter’s thin hard body stretching to accommodate the new growth was intoxicating. Peter would be helpless, dependent on Quentin to care for him.

"Hear that? I'm gonna plump your cute stomach up with eggs and keep you fed and fucked till they hatch."

Things were getting a little weird, but he'd never been this hard in his life. He absolutely had to fuck Parker on top of everything else now, or maybe finish himself rubbing against Peter's ass, if he was too full.

Peter had started blubbering incoherently. Quentin was used to getting turned on by tears though. He knew that about himself.

Quentin debated three fingers versus just getting to it already. He wasn't trying to romance the kid, so he might as well get to enjoying himself. Quentin pulled his slicked fingers back out of Peter and took to setting up the ovipositor.

It was loosely phallic in shape but hollowed out to fit several eggs inside so that he could ostensibly insert the toy into Peter, then shove each of the eggs inside him. Three seemed like a good start.

"Get ready, Parker. Daddy's gonna make a good little breeding bitch out of you."

Entering Peter with a toy of the ovipositor's girth was a little difficult since he'd chosen to march ahead with things, but also not as hard as it would be if he was worried about hurting Peter.

"Mr. Beck," came a grunt from Peter's lips.

Quentin massaged the shaft of the toy so that the first of the eggs made its way into Peter's body.

Peter whined this time.

"Please don't, please don't let them hatch in me," Peter cried.

"Too late for that, Parker. I can’t wait to watch them wriggle out of you."

Quentin slowly nudged the next two in, watching Peter's body spasm as he spread him wider and wider with each egg.

Inside him, the eggs were softer than Quentin's fingers had been, but larger and painful in their own way. He felt sticky, not just between his legs, but inside himself as well, and alarmingly hot in his groin and thighs. Peter was dangerously close to cumming, as Beck filled his body with God knew what.

"Mr. Beck, please. Take them out, please. I'll let you fuck my mouth. I'll tell you Tony's passwords. Whatever you want. Please."

Most of all, he didn't want Quentin to see him orgasm like this. He didn't want to give him the satisfaction of knowing this is what got him off apparently. 

There was a change in the pressure inside him, and Peter could see Quentin was now rocking his long middle appendage between the cleft of his ass, even if he could still feel the eggs inside him. 

"I told you, Parker. All I want to see is you cum yourself like a bitch in heat. I'm gonna keep you stuffed, then break your legs and chain you to my bed ‘till they grow good and strong."

Quentin's face was contorted in pleasure as he thrust against Peter, each motion bringing Peter closer to the brink. He could only hope this was another game. He was tired of fighting. Maybe he ought to give in. Getting moved to Quentin’s room might be an improvement.

"I'm, uh.... I'm close, Quentin," Peter sighed. Maybe he could end it sooner. "You were right. I'm just an egg sac for you to fill with your clutch."

He knew enough about spiders at this point to talk the talk, and focusing his mind brought him a little further from climax. Maybe if Quentin finished first that would work too. 

Peter's slick ass was heavenly even just to rub against.

"Oh Peter, I knew you'd come around. Be a good boy and cum for your daddy spider," Quentin urged. Quentin pressed the tip of his cock against Peter's entrance, beginning to slowly penetrate him and press the eggs deeper inside Peter.

Peter twitched in place and let out another moan, this time his voice cracking. From the way his legs shook, this had to be it. 

"That's a good boy."

What a wonderful broken-in toy Peter made. It'd take a bit more dirty talking to get Quentin over the edge though.

"I'm having EDITH film this, by the way. Later tonight, I'm gonna watch what a good little breeder you made," Quentin growled, rocking himself against the eggs and Peter alike. "Maybe I'll have to stick a few more eggs in you."

The eggs would hypothetically melt overnight, but Peter would likely believe anything Quentin told him now. Quentin scrunched his eyes shut in concentration. What little push would it take for him to finish?

Peter, in the meantime, had become little more than a ragdoll. What had gotten him close before?

"I can't wait to see that bulge grow in on you. You're gonna look so good full of spiders. You're gonna get stretched taut for daddy, aren't you?"

That was it. That was very much it. Quentin came sudden and hard as he berated Peter, his legs almost giving out from the strength of his pleasure.

"Fuck, kid, you were perfect," Quentin sighed, pulling out unceremoniously. That had been something else entirely. "EDITH, show me to Peter."

Peter watched as the darkness around them faded to light. Beck's hand trailed along his back as he strode to stand in front of Peter. He was an ordinary man. Undressed with cum and lube splattered around his groin, but no monstrous appearance. They were in a vast cement room, drones hovering around the two of them, and EDITH rested across Quentin's face still. He hated seeing Tony's glasses on him.

"Sorry to disappoint, champ. Just me," said Quentin.

It'd been a lie. Unless this was a lie, and his stomach really was going to burst with baby spider monsters in 6 months. 

Quentin's hands carded through Peter's hair idly. Hiss ass still felt stretched and full despite the relief his orgasm had brought. He'd switched to feeling more of a numbness and occasional low grade ache rather than a constant pain.

"We'll do this again sometime, huh?"

It was almost tender. It'd be tender from anyone else right now.

"Untie me at least. Please. You had your fun," Peter pleaded.

"I might be fucked up, Parker, but I'm not stupid. You'll stay in chains until we do this again."

Again. That was a word Peter was loathe to hear.

Quentin made his way out of Peter's vision, but the rustle of fabric and a brief zipping noise suggested he was getting dressed.

"Enjoy the eggs while I'm gone, kid," Quentin mused. "Next time there'll be more."


End file.
